


Morning Blues and Morning Brews

by tadstrangerthings



Category: Penguins of Madagascar
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Homoeroticism, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:07:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23340694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tadstrangerthings/pseuds/tadstrangerthings
Summary: "Private had come to the realization that Skipper seemed to be really going through it as of late.Private didn’t know how to define this “it” in question, but it definitely seemed to be something.Skipper always seemed worried."Based on @drawbauchery's human au.
Relationships: Private/Skipper (Madagascar)
Kudos: 17





	Morning Blues and Morning Brews

Private had come to the realization that Skipper seemed to be really going through it as of late.

Private didn’t know how to define this “it” in question, but it definitely seemed to be something.

Skipper always seemed worried.

Not in a nervous or tetchy way, just in a serious, paranoid, grumpy way that made it feel like he had been serious, paranoid, and grumpy for a while now.

In Skipper’s mind, home base might as well have been on fire every day for the past year, as he treated it with a simultaneous level of worry and apprehension, but also the same banality that came with things that were mundane. Like, yeah, their HQ was on fire, but he also lost his favorite mug, and he thinks he just saw Rico whistling inconspicuously earlier, so, what was he supposed to do?

Honestly? Private could understand it.

Although he knew he wore every emotion he had ever felt and will ever feel on his sleeve, he understands the sort of day-to-day crisis thing he has going on.

Private’s surprised he’s lived this long as is. He doesn’t even mean it in a morbid way, what with how often they’re dealing with criminal overlords and military-grade weaponry, more like, “top 3 colleges? I thought I’d be dead in the back of a truck by now.” Now he has to deal with military-grade weaponry AND the fact that he never got into med school, which, by all things considered, he thinks he’s dealing with just fine.

Skipper clearly isn’t, though. Though at this point, it’s less of a problem per say, and more of a quirk of his personality, like the way Kowalski never got over Doris the Dolphin, or the fact that nobody can make eye contact with Mort. It’s just the way things are. It’s a trait. An aspect. A quirk.

Still, just because HQ might be on fire all the time, is it wrong of Private to try to smother those flames every once in a while?

Not completely, of course. That’d never happen. Not without therapy, at least, but, is it so wrong to try to help Skipper take the edge off?

Is it so wrong to try to help a friend?

——————————————————————————————————————————

Skipper hadn’t been getting enough sleep lately. That seemed obvious since when he wasn’t sequestering himself in his quarters, he’d been giving death glares to anyone’s gaze who dare reached his eye.

He must’ve been working late, god knows Savio loves to keep his rings of debauchery on the move, and Private swore he heard Skipper say that they were “this” close to finding one of the more notorious ones that had settled in their home state of New York for the time being to dispatch a new drug, and Skipper was determined to stamp them out.

Of course, it could never be that simple. How could it be? Their arrogance proceeded them.

Skipper, specifically. He was always into bearing that cross, not that it ever did the team any favors.

“What’s wrong with Skippa? Is he sick? Should I call Dr. Mankowitz?” Private whisperedfrom outside the kitchen’s entrance, all the men at least a little cautious when it came to dealing with the beast that was an angry Skipper.

“No, he just didn’t get enough sleep last night.” That much was obvious, and Kowalski almost felt put upon to answer the question at all, but, it was easier than laying into anyone. He’s sure Skipper would do that later anyhow. “Come on, sir. We’ve got work today.”

Maybe it was the blasé way he said it, maybe it was because the statement itself insinuated he didn’t complete the task he had set out to do, but nonetheless, Kowalski received a death glare that would send lesser men into a fright. And Kowalski, in this instance at least, was a lesser man as he ran for the hills. Or, at least the corner.

Private had no such predilections. No such fears.

Private had a strategy.

Private approached Skipper with a small glare on his face, but it too soon softened as it had the tendency to do, as he talked calmly and quietly, placing a small hand on his shoulder.Honey is sweeter than vinegar, after all.

“Hey…let’s take a moment and go have breakfast, okay?”

Skipper regarded him with almost a soft suspicion at first, like he was considering his options, but soon relented, almost joyously.

“Okay.”

——————————————————————————————————————————

After that, Private set up a brew, and things seemed to go significantly smoother after that, though the two were still alone in the kitchen. Rico was probably checking up on his royal highness, and Kowalski had probably been frightened off after his first brush-up with death that morning.

Not to knock Kowalski, of course. Private knew that he was probably trying to do him a favor. It was just a weird way to do it.

Nonetheless, it’s not like Private minded. Weird had become normal, and normal in kind had become weird. It was normal for Skipper to be chopping up fish for his coffee, and it was weird the fact that the two were talking quietly as he did so, about absolutely nothing at all. The two seemed so intertwined that no social convention seemed to stick.

Like Private sitting in Skipper’s lap, that was weird AND normal, even for the two of them.

“D-Dude, you okay?” Rico asked, chuckling a little to himself as he came in the kitchen for an energy drink and whatever fruity concoction Julien had left in the fridge.

“MM-HMM.” Skipper said, gritting his teeth and trying to shoot the same daggers that took out our dear Kowalski, but the ruffled, blushing look that came with having Private in his lap weakened its effects.

Rico snickered, but left it all alone. He went through all this too, the least he could do was give them the fifteen minutes of dignity they deserved before finding a love song on Julien’s playlist to blast. And besides, they had a bed and breakfast to get to.

Skipper rolled his eyes as he watched Rico leave. Was he really going to say something about it? Private was easily the most clingy of the group. Whether he was hugging Kowalski or cuddling on movie nights with Julien, he was at the very least the most tactile. He didn’t have Private in his lap because he //WANTED// to, it’s just that the kid needs a hug every now and again. Even Rico gets his time in when he’s not being actively horny on main, so he shouldn’t talk.

However, considering all those factors, this shouldn’t be weird for Skipper at all. This was normal for Private, and this seemed normal to the rest of the men as well, so why fret? Why did he have to justify simple hugs and handholds when Kowalski and Rico were fine with kissing and cuddling?

Maybe it’s because all it was was handholding and hugging and pecks before. Maybe it was because everyone had treated it as natural. If they felt the same as he had, he doubts he’d consider himself abnormal in this regard. Of course, maybe…

Maybe, at the end of the day, it was because Private saw him frowning, and gave him a smile in kind. He was the one who had lifted his spirits, he was the one who spoke with him about inanities like popcorn and lunacorns when Kowalski would’ve immediately begun planning their latest mission. He was a rock of sorts. He’d be there when Skipper swam too far out to sea, and Skipper would stay with him when the waves bore too hard on him. They were there for each other, and not just in battle, but in every other aspect of life.

“When we’re done with breakfast, do you wanna take a nap?” Private asked. “Kowalski said he thinks he could pinpoint the location of Savio’s new drug ring on his own, but it’d take him the next three hours, so we’d have a bit of free time.”

Skipper choked a little on his coffee, but made a quick recovery. “No, no, it’s quite alright, I can-“

“No, it’s not. It’s not okay. You haven’t gotten a full night’s rest in the past 6 days, and we need you at the top of your game if you’re going to take out that snake’s goons tonight.”

“So this is less of a “want” and more of an “or else” kind of thing.” Skipper said slowly.

“Yeah, kind of.”

“This assertiveness training has been “kind of” paying off.”

“Thanks!” Private said proudly, flashing a little smile as he hopped off Skipper’s lap. Skipper made way to dump his mug in the sink as Private seemed to follow him. “I mean, all we need to do is find Savio’s drug den, right? Then you can rest easy again!”

Oh.

The bitter taste of truth tastes so much like black coffee that Skipper had to bite his tongue.

Skipper hadn’t gotten 5 hours of sleep across the past 6 days.

He found Savio’s hideout two days ago.

**Author's Note:**

> Based on!  
> https://drawbauchery.tumblr.com/post/188805733692  
> https://drawbauchery.tumblr.com/post/188823790082
> 
> (Hey! I hope you enjoyed! Fun fact, if Skipper makes a deeply worried expression one (1) time, I will stare at it until I can formulate 1600 words worth of his thought process. I’m sorry for not really including the other asks in between the two mentioned at the top, there wasn’t really a way for them to answer these questions in the story-verse, if that’s what we’re calling it.)
> 
> https://drawbauchery.tumblr.com


End file.
